


Under the Spell of the Sea

by Travel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Caretaking, F/M, Seasickness, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29390163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Travel/pseuds/Travel
Summary: Twenty-somethings Harry and Hermione's couple holiday at sea goes wrong when she comes down with something that not even magic can cure: Seasickness.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Kudos: 10





	Under the Spell of the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you folks enjoy it and if anyone wants to make any fanart off it, please let me know first because I'd love to see it.

Hermione couldn’t get enough of the view. The ocean far away from her window. She had always dreamed of seeing it in person. Her parents weren’t too keen on beach holidays; her father would sunburn too easily and her mother hated the idea of her feet and food ending up covered in sand, still to be found weeks later in the pages of her books or stowing away on their bags. Hermione didn’t mind too much herself. Growing up, she knew she’d be happy anywhere she could take a book, so even if the holidays weren’t too adventurous, she could still take her mind away into reading about Jacques Cousteau, or following Captain Ahab in Moby Dick, or dreaming what it might be like to face Long John Silver. Back at Hogwarts, sitting by the Black Lake was the closest she could imagine of what it was like to have an adventure out at sea. But in those times, discovering the magic and secrets of Hogwarts was enough to distract her from her preconceived notions of adventure. But it had been fifteen years since she’d stayed at Hogwarts long enough to trek to the Black Lake. And her last sight of the ocean was the time they had hidden in Shell Cottage and buried Dobby. For a while, she couldn’t stop associating the ocean with tragedy. Now with Harry, most of their time was spent at the Ministry or at home, and the occasional visits to London or the likes of Canterbury and Stratford. Summers had come and gone, and she had started to get that desire that she had lost as a child about seeing the ocean. Just before August had hit, she made the proposal to Harry to go to the ocean. She felt ready. 

So did Harry. His memories about the ocean weren’t particularly fond ones either. The Dursleys never made an effort to take him on any holiday when he was growing up. He still laughed at the day he had to travel to the Hut-on-the-Rock when they kept getting blasted by Hogwarts letters. But that was one gloomy day, like most days with the Dursleys regardless of how sunny it was outside. Then there was that time at the Sea Cave with Dumbledore. A day he’d prefer to forget, with the screams of his friend begging for death forever etched in his head. And just like Hermione, he still mourned over Dobby. 

But now, he was asleep on the bed in the flat they had rented. He had closed his eyes the night before, seeing Hermione look up at him as they were cuddling, lit by the lamp beside them. Feeling her lilac and pink pajamas brush up against his t-shirt and boxers. Back home, it was always a little too cold, with many layers of clothes and sheets covering them. But here they could rest easy with only each other as a cover. Hermione sleepily whispering to him the random thoughts that ran into her mind. Putting on and then removing her glasses as she’d want to catch another glance of Brooklyn. She kept gushing about it but knew he’d have to wait his turn to read it after she’d finish reading it and then re-reading it. It was the sound of her whispers and the ocean far away. Ever since they had started sleeping together, he thought that there was no way that life could be better. But the night before had proved to him that there was. 

Harry slowly and groggily woke up from his sleep, grunting as Hermione’s silhouette shadowed over his face. She gently turned to face him.  
“Hello, darling,” Hermione said.  
“Hey,” Harry replied, his voice slightly hoarse from sleep. “Couldn’t wait, could you?” he said with a smile.  
She giggled, excited.  
“Excited for my first sea adventure.”  
“You want to have breakfast here or--?”  
“Outside! C’mon, let’s see the village! The less we are inside this flat the better! But you have to get up now!”  
Her wishes were his commands, but he was more than happy to oblige. With a smile, he decided he’d have the first shower. A while later, he emerged with Hermione claiming her turn. While she showered, he made a point of picking his clothes for the day: Black swimming trunks, a black t-shirt and sandals. He changed and a little later, Hermione emerged.  
“Give me a little room, sweetheart,” she said.  
“Why?”  
“I don’t want to spoil the surprise,” Hermione said with a playful purr.  
“But I’ve even seen you naked before. What’s the surprise?”  
“C’mon. Go, let me have some fun with you!” She playfully pushed him out of the bedroom and Harry complied.  
He bid his time flipping through the television until Hermione emerged from the door, with a long white dress flowing down her body.  
“That’s the surprise?” Harry asked, jokingly.  
“No, silly. You will get the surprise out at sea,” she answered and kissed his lips. 

Harry and Hermione walked out of the flat, making their way down the houses and shops, all of them flowing down hills and waves of concrete. They held hands with Hermione jumping excited as they trekked, looking for the café that Hermione had looked up online. Joyful, she guided him down alleys, passing the smells and sounds of different families getting ready for their days. Radio stations blasting Kasabian, The Veronicas and Lady Gaga. And then they found it: A sea-side café with a clear view of the ocean. 

They had an al-fresco breakfast with Harry and Hermione ordering sausage, toast and scrambled eggs. Once finished, they had pastries and biscuits along with tea. Harry was slightly worried that maybe they should have eaten less considering the ride they were about to embark on. He was used to the strong motions of flying that Quidditch gave him, but it had always been easy on his stomach. Meanwhile, Hermione could never get used to flying in any way. Broomsticks, hipogriffs and floo powder all terrified her. But he had never seen her get queasy, so maybe she could handle the ocean. Both of them could. 

Hermione and Harry found the sailboat they had rented. It was small but its size was effectively used giving them one cabin, a bathroom, a kitchen and a dining room. The deck was wide, its wood shining with the sun and the sea droplets sprayed all over it. The couple stopped at the end of the dock to admire the vessel and looked at each other. They shared a mischievous grin and took out their wands. 

“Locomotor!” they whispered, pointing their wands at the anchor. It started to lift and the sails began to move on their own.  
“Hurry! I’ll race you!” Hermione said and ran toward the boat, carrying her bags. Harry followed her. They jumped on to the deck. They had fully deanchored.  
“I just hope we really don’t need a captain,” she said.  
“We’ll do our best,” Harry replied. 

They sat down on the back, watching Cornwall get further and further away from them. The weather began to get hotter and the rocking of the waves increased with each minute. Harry laid his head on Hermione’s shoulder and she did the same, holding him closer by putting her arm around his waist. Soon, they were surrounded by nothing but water and sky. This was another view that Hermione would go on to remember loving.  
With the heat increasing, Hermione thought it was time to unveil the surprise.  
“Shall we sunbathe?” she asked him.  
“Yes, of course,” Harry replied. “Just don’t be surprised if I burn up. My skin doesn’t do that well in the sun.”  
“Well, you’ll probably see me freckle up,” Hermione said.  
“More kissing targets,” he said and they locked lips.  
“You just wait out here. I’ll be right back,” Hermione winked.  
“Oh come on, Hermy. Just undress out here!”  
“The proof is in the wait,” she said and disappeared down the deck. Harry took off his t-shirt and put on a towel below him and laid one down for Hermione when she returned. He slathered some extra sunscreen on his chest and arms. A few moments later, she emerged in a lilac bikini from the cabin. Barefoot, she approached Harry and towered over him. Harry’s jaw dropped. It wasn’t the first time he saw Hermione in a bikini. Blimey, he had already seen her naked a few times. But she still managed to take his breath away with any outfit she chose.

“Excuse me, sir, is this a good spot for sunbathing?” she asked in a playfully formal voice.  
“Why, yes, ma’am. This is an absolutely optimal sunbathing space,” Harry answered, following her lead. Both of them about to crack up in laughter.  
“Oh, bloody hell, you are Harry Potter. No way I could sunbathe by your side!”  
“But you are Hermione Granger, aren’t you? Anyone would be happy to share this space with you.”  
Harry was the first to laugh. Hermione followed and collapsed to be over him. She kissed his lips and his face. Then she lied down next to him.  
“You like it?” Hermione asked, placing on one hand over the bikini string that covered her right shoulder blade.  
“It’s perfect,” Harry replied and gave her another kiss on the cheek. 

They settled in and took in the sun. The isolation of the high seas, the control of magic over the boat made them feel as if they really were the only people in the whole world. The thought filled Harry with peace and it was easy for him to fall asleep. But Hermione’s mind was always racing and if it had emptied, it always tried to find something to fill itself with. She always fancied the idea of reading while out in the ocean, so she took out her copy of Brooklyn and continued to read. She considered maybe taking out her magically-altered iPod and listening to the BBC or the Wizarding World radio. But she relished only having the sound of Harry’s breathing, the wind and the water splashing up against the side of the boat. So she continued to read. 

As she kept turning the pages, something was annoying her eyesight, like a tiny headache building up between her eyes. A lack of concentration began to take over her, as well as a sense of malaise. She couldn’t help but notice how much the boat was rocking. How the ocean seemed to jump up and down. Maybe it was the heat. Was she starting to feel some kind of heat stroke? What were the exact symptoms? She grabbed a bottle of water from her bag and drank from it. Her body now felt maybe a little bit cooler, but there was a sense of illness that she couldn’t shake. Like a fog that clouded her view and embraced her entire body. 

Was she feeling seasick? Maybe it was the book. But it was awfully unlike her to get sick reading while traveling. In fact, she was always the envy of many of her friends and relatives because she could read in the car or train without getting motion sick. But now, it seemed like she had met her match. She put the book aside and closed her eyes. Perhaps she could sleep it off and wait along with Harry, and by the time she was awake, her motion sickness would have passed. She settled herself in for sleep but sleep didn’t come. Instead, her own breathing was getting shakier. Was she getting the sort of anxious attack that would suddenly hit her on occasion? Or was it the idea of being sick? She was rarely sick herself. She began to kick herself for not bringing some motion sickness pills or bands. She considered some exercises she had overheard whenever her mother or anyone else she knew would get struck with motion sickness. She pressed her wrist and tried to concentrate on looking at the horizon. But this wasn’t doing anything. The dizziness wouldn’t stop. She turned to Harry. He was always great at comforting her. But she didn’t want to wake him and she couldn’t just rely on him the entire time anything bad happened to her. 

“Hermy, are you all right?”  
It was too late. Harry had noticed. Hermione nodded.  
“I’m fine,” she said, forcing a smile.  
“You are looking really pale and…angsty,” Harry replied.  
“It’s nothing, really,”  
“Are you seasick?”  
“No!” she said, trying to fake the tone of someone outraged and laughing at such a ludicrous suggestion.  
“Sweetheart, it’s okay if you are feeling sick.”  
“I’m not feeling sick!”  
“You look worse than when I’ve seen you ride on my broom.”  
“Well, thank you very much, Mister Potter. You sure know how to talk to women.”  
Harry got closer to her and hugged her.  
“What—what are you doing?!”  
He placed Hermione’s arm around his shoulder. Hermione was hoping that she didn’t smell like the cold sweat that was covering her body.  
“Just take deep breaths, sweetie,” Harry said.  
Hermione closed her eyes and took deep, shaky breaths. In doing so, both of them realized how much she was actually hyperventilating.  
“Is it working?” Harry asked.  
She shook her head with a groan.  
“Are you feeling nauseous?”  
“Nauseated, Harry. The right word is nauseated. And no, not quite. Not yet at least,” she said with dread.  
“Maybe you can stick it out here outside. Fresh air is always good. But maybe you want to be more comfy in the cabin,” Harry told her as he ran his fingers through her long brown hair. Hermione thought it over.  
“I think I’d prefer the cabin,” she said, almost as an order.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes!”  
“Okay, let me help—“  
Harry stood up and helped Hermione up. He wrapped her arm around his shoulder before she moved it away.  
“I’m not wounded. I can walk myself,” she said but upon turning and seeing how rocky the waves were, she felt dizzy and her knees buckled. Harry picked her up.  
“C’mon. Save your energy,” Harry said and continued to help Hermione walk below deck and into the cabin. Once inside, both wondered how much of a good idea had it really been. Inside, everything was moving up and down and sideways. Hermione closed her eyes, trying to find some solace from the movement. Harry gently placed her on their bed and lied down next to her.  
“Comfy?” Harry asked. Hermione nodded. “Just try to sleep it off, honey. I’ll be right here next to you.” 

Hermione tried to sleep, but the rocking was just too much. Her mind was filling with what would happen if her seasickness got worse. She kept remembering the breakfast they had that morning. She didn’t want to picture what it would look like if she ended up vomiting. She also felt stupid. She was always so careful and cautious with everything. How could she not consider bringing in any seasickness medication? Then again, it was a very rare ailment for her or Harry. But it was pathetic. How could she handle the Knight Bus, Buckbeak and brooms, even with her bad flying, but not this? 

The water sloshed against the porthole. She could see how the sunlight bounced off it into the inside of the cabin. Her curiosity was piqued. Maybe she could use the distraction. She turned to see Harry who had fallen asleep again. So much for taking care of her, right? Again, she was sure this was something she could deal with by herself. She got off the bed, guiding her bare feet toward the porthole. She peeked out and witnessed the waves splashing, going up and down and sideways. No sight of the horizon. Just rocking. And that’s when she felt it. Her body sending a wave of nausea from her stomach up to her throat. Her eyes widened in terror as her cheeks puffed out. She placed her fingers to her lips in an attempt to hold her breakfast inside. Her eyes rolled almost involuntarily from the effort and as her vision blurred. She felt faint. Harry set up. 

“Are you okay?!” he asked with concern.  
Hermione nodded, still holding her mouth.  
“Sweetie, if you need to be sick, just do it,” he said, standing up and running up to her, positioning himself by her side. She gulped loudly.  
“I’m—I’m fine—“ she said gasping.  
“You look like Madam Marsh!”  
“Madam Marsh?!”  
“Green!”  
“This isn’t the time to make jokes, Harry!”  
“I’m just literally saying what’s literally happening.”  
Hermione closed her eyes and held on to the walls for a bit, taking deep breaths.  
“Help me outside,” she said.  
“Good idea.” 

Harry helped Hermione out into the deck. He guided her to the side of the boat where Hermione collapsed, kneeling forward behind it, with her stomach pressing over the side. Her limp arms and head swayed with the waves. She looked greener by the second, her eyes groggy and her tongue sticking out from the nausea that would overtake her. Hermione felt the urge of nausea once again before covering her mouth one last time, first with one hand and then two. 

“It’s okay, honey. Just let it out,” Harry said, holding Hermione’s back.  
She couldn’t hold it any longer and got sick into the ocean, splashing the side of the boat some. Harry held her hair and rubbed her back as she continued to be sick, until she finished, hyperventilating.  
“Are you finished?” he asked.  
“Yes!” Hermione said, angry.  
Harry knew this wasn’t personal. She was angry at herself or against the ocean. Or both. Harry handed her a bottle of water. She took a sip, rinsed her mouth and then spat it out into the ocean. She drank some more and went silent for a moment.  
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Hermione said.  
“I’ve seen worse. Like Ron and the slugs. Remember?”  
It was a joke but it was anything but comforting. Hermione turned green again and covered her mouth.  
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Harry pleaded. Hermione swallowed.  
“Can we please go below deck?”  
“Are you sure? The rocking would be much worse.”  
“I don’t want to lie on the deck.”  
Harry helped Hermione up, and carrying her by wrapping her arm around his shoulder and both went down the cabin. Hermione still felt very dizzy but at least the nausea seemed to be calming down. He placed her on the bed and lied down next to her.  
“Do you want us to go back?” Harry asked.  
Hermione didn’t answer.  
“Hermy?” he asked again.  
Harry didn’t want to ask again. Then a shudder interrupted her stillness, followed by a sob.  
“Honey?” Harry asked.  
Hermione turned. Tears were flowing down her pale face.  
“I’m sorry,” she cried.  
“What for?”  
“For being sick. For spoiling everything.”  
“You didn’t!”  
“I did. How could I have been so stupid? Not to get some medicine. Not even some bloody tea.”  
“We all get sick sometimes. I don’t have an iron stomach. You know how much I hate floo powder?”  
“Every time we’re near the water, something spoils it.”  
Harry went quiet, befuddled at first by her statement. But then, he understood.  
“I wanted us to have a good memory with the sea. Like a normal couple. Like normal people,” Hermione said, still crying.  
“It’s not a big deal,”  
“It is! We hardly get any time for holidays and when we do, I muck it up.”  
“Hermione, sweetie,...you still looked beautiful even while you were sick. You know that?”  
“Rubbish.”  
“It’s not rubbish! That bathing suit is stunning. But you always are. No matter what.”  
Hermione rolled her eyes.  
“Except now.”  
“Except never.”  
Harry cuddled with her.  
“Harry, come on, not now. I probably smell terrible.”  
“You don’t. I swear.”  
“Let’s just go back. Back home tonight.”  
“You’re overreacting.”  
“I don’t want to be here anymore.”  
Harry nodded.  
“Fine. But try to sleep. I think it might be a bit easier for you now,” Harry said.  
“It better be.” 

Harry left her alone. He went to the deck and looked at the ocean all around them. Then, he went into the captain’s deck. He drew his wand and aimed at the steering wheel.  
“Locomotor!” he said and the steering wheel spun on its own, making the boat do a one-hundred and eighty degree turn, going back to the shore. Harry watched the water, feeling bad for Hermione and even frustrated with her. Why couldn’t she just let some things go? Why did everything have to be perfect? Then, an idea popped up in his brain. He could challenge her. He’d have to hope she wouldn’t wake up too soon, though.  
Hours later, Hermione woke up. Still sleepy, she noticed that although it was darker, they still seemed to be out in the ocean.  
“Honestly!” Hermione yelled and furiously got out of the cabin. She ran up to the deck, finding Harry sitting outside.  
“What in the blazes are we doing out here still?! It’s almost evening! I told you to take us home! Why didn’t you wake me up?!”  
“Feeling better?” Harry asked with a smirk.  
“Take us back to shore now!”  
Harry patted the space next to him.  
“Sit down,” he said.  
“Why?”  
“We’ll go back to shore soon. We’re not very far. Just sit down. Please. ”  
Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, partly out of anger, but partly because she felt a chill. She sat next to him.  
“First of all, we’re not that far from shore. Second: Look up.”  
“Why?”  
“Hermione, come on. I don’t believe you.”  
Hermione looked up. She gasped a little.  
“Wow,” she whispered. 

Above them, were all the stars in a way she hadn’t seen them in a long time. Maybe not since the nights at Hogwarts or the nights on the Burrow. Maybe her mind could help her remember other instances where she had seen the night sky that way, but now she just wanted to be in the here and now. Especially when it was worth it, with Harry next to her. Alone. Harry took a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulder.  
“Thanks, sweetheart,” she said.  
“No problem,” he said and kissed her. She smiled. “Still want to go back home tonight?” Harry asked. 

Hermione considered for an instant and then shook her head. Her hand took Harry’s cheek and her lips closed in on his. They kissed for a long time. Even though her eyes were closed, she could still see his face, his hair, his body. They stopped kissing and separated. He smiled at her, the ocean rocking right behind him. For the rest of her life, whenever she thought of the ocean, this was her favorite memory. The one that would come first. She loved this view. 

THE END.


End file.
